


Seasons of Love

by Batsutousai



Series: Tumblr Prompts [27]
Category: Doctor Strange (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Crack, Everyone Has Issues, Incestuous History, M/M, Multi, One-Sided Relationship, Other: See Story Notes, Pre-Slash, Suggestion of Threesome, in-fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the Avengers want in Loki's pants, but Loki's got a thing for the oblivious Dr Strange.</p><p>(Including the following, untagged, one-sided pairings: Tony Stark/Loki, Thor/Loki, Bruce Banner/Loki, Hulk/Loki, Steve Rogers/Loki, Clint Barton/Loki, Natasha Romanov/Loki)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasons of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Runic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/gifts).



> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 
> 
> **A/N:** This is Runic's fault. She said she wanted crack-fic where all the Avengers were fighting over Loki, I said no, she tried harder, I threatened angst, she just got more excited and talked me into it.  
>  This is how many of our conversations go. XD  
> Stephen was added by me because there needs to be more Loki/Strange in the universe.
> 
> The angst ended up being a bit more incidental than what I'd originally threatened, and this whole thing really is just an exercise in crack.

If you asked Thor, he would say it all started two centuries before, when Loki finally gave in to his advances and let Thor coax him into the elder's fur-covered bed. When Loki _continued_ to let himself be coaxed into bed with Thor, whispering promises of the horrified reactions of the court, should they ever find out, in Thor's ear as the elder fucked him as near to silence as Loki ever got. 

If you asked Clint, he would say it was the moment Loki touched a sceptre to his heat and stole his ability to refuse orders he never would have followed in a _thousand_ years. He would insist it started then, even though Clint never even thought about anything until Natasha suggested the idea of having Loki on his knees in front of him, giving head to one he'd once controlled. 

If you asked Tony, it started the moment Loki surrendered in a square in Germany. Hands up and armour vanishing in a show of light so _glorious_... Tony wanted him, wanted all that impossible science and, later, watching a silver tongue take Fury to pieces, Tony wanted that clever mind next to him, snarling threats and ideas and curses as they christened any surface they could reach. 

Natasha would say it started the moment she heard Clint had been taken, but, really, she didn't consider Loki as anything more than a threat to be eliminated until the moment spent facing each other through glass, an echo of self reflected back and forth between them so many times that it was twisted and monstrous and something so far beyond human understanding... Clint could never have given her that, though he was closest when thinking of all the things he needed to do to the God of Lies. 

For Bruce, it started with the Hulk. A toy that smashed and didn't stay broken. Too many renditions of _Finding Nemo_ after Tony made him move in and Bruce realised his inner beast wanted a 'Squishy'. And Bruce, bless his shy little heart, thought it might not be a terrible idea to share a bed with someone who could survive a surprise visit from the Hulk. 

Steve would insist it never started, because he would never fornicate with a villain – or, more, a _male_ – but there was a moment, in Central Park, while Thor was collecting the Tesseract from Selvig, when the light struck Loki at _just_ the right angle. Try as he might, Steve had never been able to recapture that moment, the way the lines of Loki's hair and throat tilted in just the right way, the glint of the muzzle just bright enough... Steve wanted that moment, wanted to sketch and paint Loki until he could recreate every perfect line. 

If you asked Loki, he would say everything started barely a month after he'd slipped from Asgard's prison, laying low in the branches of Yggdrasil. He'd been in the middle of a nap somewhere between Niflheim and Helheim. A _presence_ floated past, brushing against Loki in a way that was both intriguing and infuriating. Further inspection, gliding along behind the presence, found a sense of entitlement that even the oft-lauded Man of Iron would have been hard-pressed to recreate, for this being had mastery of a skill few had patience enough to study. 

Loki followed the presence to Midgard before he lost the trail, and determined to hunt it down, whatever the cost. 

If one asked Stephen Strange how it started, he would say it didn't. It only ended. 

And he still wasn't completely clear on what, exactly, _it_ was. 

-0-

Loki's return to Earth would have gone completely unnoticed – Thor had no idea he'd escaped Asgard and so no one was watching for him – had his exit from Yggdrasil not landed him on the balcony of Avengers Tower in the middle of movie night. 

The Avengers all turned to look and just sort of _stared_ in disbelief for a long moment, giving the new arrival enough time to gather his wits, realise where he was, and give them all a saucy wink before teleporting down to the city below. 

"Brother!" Thor shouted belatedly. 

"Was that–?" Steve stared, blinking a bit numbly at where the younger god had been standing. 

"Isn't he supposed to be _behind bars_?" Clint snarled, voice tight and fingers clenching in his lap. To most of the team, it looked like he was moving his fingers like he was manipulating the controls of his bow, but Natasha, who had seen him wank, knew better. 

"JARVIS," Tony breathed, glancing down at his phone, "tell me you got the son of a bitch on recording." 

_"Of course, Sir,"_ JARVIS replied and brought up the footage on the phone. 

"I had thought him well secured," Thor admitted to Clint while Bruce peeked over Tony's shoulder at the video of Loki's landing and wink. He neither commented, nor moved away when Tony paused the screen on the wink and saved the image, but he did use his own phone to tap Tony's shoulder. 

"Clearly," Natasha commented calmly, eyeing the trade between scientists, "he wasn't that well secured." 

"Is there a way to check with Asgard?" Steve wondered, folding his hands together in his lap to keep from picking up the sketchpad that was never far from his side. 

Thor frowned and looked back out at the balcony. "It is possible they are not aware of his escape." 

"You people fail even worse than we do at the whole 'keeping the villains off the streets' crap," Clint muttered, pulling over a pillow to tug at and resting it in his lap. 

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Clint, who refused to meet her eyes. Thor didn't hear his comment – which was probably best for all of them, because Thor could get _seriously_ upset about people commenting on Asgard's inability to keep a hold of Loki – and didn't look away from the window. 

Steve gave it up as a bad job and pulled out his sketchpad and pencils. "JARVIS." 

_"Of course, Captain Rogers,"_ JARVIS agreed pleasantly enough as the movie started back up. 

-0-

Loki didn't appear on their radar again for almost two months, which made SHIELD so nervous, a couple of them were starting to jump at their own shadows. (Tony and Clint being banned from the helicarrier may or may not have been related.) Enough time for the god to find a place to live, make some allies, and cook up at least a dozen plots, the team figured. 

The Avengers were...partially right. Loki had found a landlord willing to rent out to him (with a bit of magic persuasion), and he'd been approached by Amora – who he'd immediately tossed out of his home via Yggdrasil rather than deal with her – and a couple of other people in New York who saw him out and about and thought he might make a good ally, but he always turned them down, too busy trying to hunt down that presence that had led him back to Midgard. 

In the end, like how they'd discovered he was back, they crossed paths again entirely by accident: Loki had been following a hint of the presence through Central Park and, quite literally, tripped over one of Banner and Stark's experiments, having completely ignored the warning signs that had others walking around. 

Like his surprise landing, they all froze for a moment – Loki in an elegant sprawl on the ground, Stark with his finger over the activation button on his remote, and Banner in the process of wiping his glasses. 

Then, barely moving, Stark ordered, "Hulk. Fetch." 

Banner didn't even bother holding back, just let his other self burst out and thunder after the scrambling god. "SQUISHY!" Hulk roared once he had his arms around Loki. 

Loki for his part, let himself go slack and waited for his chance to escape. 

"Good boy," Stark said as he came to stand in front of Hulk, one eyebrow raised at the god. "Spying on our clever designs, Dasher?" 

Loki rolled his eyes. "Why, pray tell, would I have need to _spy_ on your inferior devices when I might simply steal them from your mind?" he demanded, somehow managing to sound imperious in spite of the breathless quality to his voice. 

Stark was somewhere between impressed and amused. He tapped the arc reactor under his chest. "Can't control me, remember?" 

Loki sighed and dropped his head back against Hulk's chest. "Because controlling you is the only way to force the information from you," he muttered, almost more to Hulk than Stark. 

Stark tensed. "Wait, what?" 

"Torture," Hulk suggested. 

"Yes, well done, beast. Give it a biscuit." Loki craned his neck around, trying to get a good look at the green creature. "Do you even _eat_ bisc–"

Loki's comment trailed off in a broken wheeze as Hulk squeezed him harder. "Squishy be nice," he ordered. 

"Yeah, Squishy. Behave yourself," Stark added, laughter in his voice. 

"Hulk Squishy," Hulk insisted, his grip on Loki loosening as he frowned at Stark. 

"Absolutely," Stark agreed with an easy smile. "Never said he wasn't." 

Hulk's frown deepened. "Metal Man wants Hulk's Squishy," he insisted. "Metal Man has picture." 

Loki paused his escape attempts and cocked his head, curious. What was this, now? 

"Meta– _I_ don't want your squishy, buddy. He's all yours," Stark promised, but there was a glint in his eyes that hinted at a lie. At _want_.

"Hulk Squishy," Hulk decided and tightened his arms around–

"Where did Loki go?" Stark realised, both of them looking down at the empty space the god had just occupied. 

Remote held in one hand and invisible to both mortals, Loki smirked to himself, then aimed the rocket at Hulk's back – in retaliation for the squeezing, he swore – and hit the button, then teleported back to his flat, snickering to himself. 

-0-

In retrospect, turning any inanimate object that put out heat into an ice cube wasn't Loki's best moment, but he was _hot_. New York City's idea of summer was at least twice as hot as Asgard's warmest season – or so it seemed to Loki; it wasn't actually that much hotter, in terms of actual temperatures – and Loki was having trouble focussing on anything save his personal misery. (His mystery presence seemed to have abandoned the city entirely, which Loki thought a wise course of action, given the heat.) 

Loki decided the extreme heat was because of all the mortal technology, so he turned his magic on anything nearby him that let out heat – and wasn't alive, though humanity was ever a tempting target – and turned it into ice. Things became immediately, noticeably cooler, and Loki found himself feeling generous. 

Apparently, humanity was more attached to their little devices than cool air, given the way they immediately panicked and called in the Avengers. 

Thor arrived first, appearing more amused than anything else to find Loki sprawled out over what used to be a hot dog stand. "Brother," he greeted. 

Loki narrowed his eyes. "I'm _not_ your bro–"

"Then you would return with me, to share my bed," Thor cut in. 

Loki raised both his eyebrows in disbelief and sat up. "Really," he said, deadpan. 

Thor blinked. "Well, yes. Would it not be proper, now–"

"You think I honestly care what anyone thinks about the way I spend my evenings?" Loki asked, intending it to be rhetorical. 

Thor frowned. "You refused me for sixteen seasons, saying the Council–"

Loki dropped back onto his ice stand, a motion that shouldn't have been half as graceful as it was. "Ever I live in hope," he muttered to himself, staring up at the icy umbrella over his head. 

"...those were but excuses," Thor realised, expression hangdog. 

"And, behold, hope has delivered!" 

"Brother..." Thor stepped closer, staring brokenly down at Loki's blank expression. 

Loki stared back for a long, silent moment, before finally stating, "You're melting my ice, Thor. Go away." 

"I'll be better," Thor promised. "If you would but return, but tell me my failings–"

"You _exist_ ," Loki snarled, sitting back up and shoving a finger into Thor's chest. "I don't want you, Thor. I never _have_. You're an absolute waste of space and–"

"Thor!" Rogers shouted as he came around the corner, actually looking a little winded for once; Loki's spell had put the quinjet out of service, as well as Stark's suits, so running through half the city had been the only way to reach the epicentre of Loki's spell. 

"I _despise_ you," Loki hissed, then vanished just as the Captain reached the blond god. 

"Thor? Are you okay?" Steve asked, touching the other's shoulder, face twisted with concern. 

Thor swallowed. "My brother has said some very hurtful things to me," he admitted, voice low to keep it from cracking. 

Steve cleared his throat, uncomfortable, and offered, "I think...maybe Loki's just trying to...to push you away. He doesn't have many friends, you know, so maybe he's trying to protect you by keeping you out of the crossfire?" 

Thor blinked a few times, then looked over at Steve, hope returning to his eyes. "Is it possible?" he murmured. 

"With Loki?" Steve returned drily. "I think anything is possible." 

Thor gave a firm nod of his head; he wouldn't give up on his brother. He would keep on until Loki returned to him, and they could return to Asgard and live as they should have done all along. 

"Now," Steve said, interrupting Thor's decisive moment before he could try hunting the Trickster down, "how do we manage the ice?" 

Thor turned to look back at the hot dog cart and admitted, "I have no idea." 

Steve sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that." 

-0-

Sometimes, Loki caused mischief just to pass the time, and the Avengers would always come running, but rarely got there in time to do more than catch a glimpse of his smirk before he teleported away. 

After one such event, Loki was walking around Washington Square Park – it was the closest he'd ever managed to get to the strange presence – and he happened across a weary Steve Rogers, sketchpad across his knees as he struggled to capture some image or another. 

Loki was disguised as a kid, at the moment, so saw no harm in hopping up next to the captain and chirping, "Whatcha drawing, mister?" 

Rogers' only sign of surprise was a violent twitch and the speed at which he turned his head to look at Loki, eyes a little too wide to be considered normal. "I– What?" He gave Loki a quick look-over, taking in the ragged edge of his Spider-Man t-shirt – Loki wore it because some mortals really hated the web-swinger, and watching them fight with themselves about yelling at a kid was too much fun – and the too-large glasses dominating his face and casting a glare over his green eyes. "Oh. Sorry." He pasted on a friendly smile and nodded at the t-shirt. "You like Spidey?" 

Mentally rolling his eyes, Loki gave a little bounce on the bench, stopping only when his glasses started to slide down his nose. "He's _amazing_. He's all like 'thwip-thwip' and then he goes swinging around and he goes so fast but he never crashes and–"

Rogers laughed and held up both hands. "Whoa, whoa, slow down." He shook his head. "He's pretty amazing, I'll give you that." 

Loki tilted his head to get a look at the unprotected sketchpad even as he asked, "You're not going to tell me he's a menace to the universe or something, are you?" in the most pitiful voice he could manage. 

Then he recognised the painstaking pencil-work as _himself_ and had to bite his tongue against the insane little giggle that threatened to escape. Were _all_ the Avengers obsessed with him? 

"Spider-Man? No, he's not a menace," Rogers assured him. "I wish he would learn to ask for help, but his heart's in the right place." He cleared his throat, then asked, "How about the Avengers? Do you like any of them?" 

Loki widened his eyes enough that he knew it would be obvious even with the glasses in the way. "I like Captain America," he breathed. "I want a shield just like _his_."

Rogers let out a nervous little chuckle, red dusting his cheeks. "I'm sure they have little plastic versions at the store." 

Loki let his head droop. "Maybe," he agreed, quieting his voice. "But those toys won't protect me. Not like _his_ would." He peeked up at Rogers, the very picture of abused child. 

Rogers, as Loki had expected, puffed up with righteous fury. "If someone's hurting you, you should tell someone," he insisted, kind but with an air of caution. "A teacher or school administrator. Your parents, maybe." 

Loki pushed his glasses back up his nose and shook his head. "They can't help." 

Rogers looked uncertain for a moment, then offered, "Maybe I can help?" 

Loki gave the appearance of considering that for a moment, then leaned up to whisper in the Captain's ear, which he helpful lowered a bit. "You missed the sparkle," he whispered. 

Rogers pulled away, completely flummoxed. "I– Excuse me?" 

Loki pointed to the sketchbook. "The sparkle in my eyes. It's a trademark," he insisted and flashed his smirk, glasses vanishing in a puff of green smoke. 

Rogers jerked away, eyes going wide, and his sketchbook tumbled to the ground. "Loki!" 

Loki jumped to his feet and, standing on the seat of the bench, gave a flamboyant little bow before teleporting away. 

-0-

Loki was making waterspouts along the Hudson – freaking out casual sailors was his newest favourite way to pass the time – when a voice behind him drily said, "You're going to upset the demon who lives in the river." 

Loki glanced around and found a man with dark hair – save for a streak of white over each ear – and piercing eyes staring right at him, in spite of Loki's invisibility. He blinked in surprise, letting the waterspouts die, and enquired, "Forgive me, _demon_?"

"Wana'ak," the stranger replied. "He lives in the Hudson. He's upset enough by the constant boat traffic; please don't make it worse." 

Loki nodded, recognising this man as the interesting presence that he'd followed to Midgard. "And you are?" 

It was the man's turn to blink. "Dr Strange, Sorcerer Supreme." He brought his legs up in a sitting position, hanging effortlessly in mid-air; Loki was enthralled. "You're Loki, Norse God of Mischief and Lies." 

Loki snorted. "You know who I am, yet you ask me not to upset a demon." 

Strange shrugged. "Mischief, not wilful murder," he pointed out, then made a motion with one hand and vanished. 

Loki frowned into the empty space, for the first time understanding exactly how irritating it was for someone to just _vanish_ on him without warning. Norns, it was a wonder Thor hadn't murdered him in his sleep after the first time. 

"Mischief," Loki muttered, glancing back at the river. His fingers twitched, wanting to raise more waterspouts, but he knew he wouldn't. He may still be a high priority for SHIELD and the Avengers, but he hadn't actually killed anyone since he'd returned from his punishment. In truth, murder had never been his way; he would rather a laugh to the tears of one lost any day. 

He sighed and teleported back to his flat, wondering if the man's last name and title would be enough to successfully scry Strange at last. 

(He doubted it.) 

-0-

Loki woke to a presence. Or, well, the certainty that he wasn't the only one in his bedroom. The number of people who could get past the protections spells he'd woven into all the entrances of his flat was pretty much non-existent – himself, his landlord, Strange (should the sorcerer discover a need to visit), and the cat that took cover on his front stoop when it was raining or snowing – and Loki knew, without a doubt, that this person shouldn't have been able to get in. 

He closed his eyes and threw out a ball of light bright enough to blind, then rolled out of his bed, away from the other person. 

"I expected more blood and threats," Natasha Romanov commented. 

Loki peeked over the edge of his bed, took in her casual lean against the wall next to the open doorway that led out to the rest of the flat, and narrowed his eyes at her. "Come back in an hour and I aim to accommodate," he suggested, tone biting. 

Romanov smiled at him, sharp as his most deadly dagger. "You'll have plugged the hole by then." 

Loki heaved himself from the floor, took note of the way her eyes flickered appreciatively over his naked form, and stepped past her to get to his kitchen; if he had to deal with this woman, he needed tea. 

She followed behind, leaning against the breakfast bar while he boiled the water with a careless twitch of one finger. Another finger twitch had his largest mug full of too much sugar and one of the Midgardian tea bags that kept him from having to play with loose leaves – there were some things mortals improved on that he appreciated, for all that he would never tell _them_ that. He poured the boiling water manually, having learned long ago the folly of trusting the spell to know when the mug was full. 

Only once the tea was seeping did he lean back against the worktop and meet Romanov's interested stare. "To what do I owe this trespass, Lady Widow?" 

"An offer," Romanov returned, not missing a beat. 

Loki raised an eyebrow at her when she didn't immediately continue, then turned to check on his tea. 

"A promise of immunity from the Avengers and SHIELD," she finally said when he was no longer facing her. 

Loki didn't bother suppressing his scornful laugh. 

"You don't believe me?" 

Loki returned to his earlier position, mug cradled carefully against his chest, between his hands. "I think such promises are tied to payments too steep for my preference." 

Romanov offered him another smile, sharp enough to put his teeth on edge. "Not so steep for you, I think; Clint wants you on your knees, I want you in our bed. Two lovers, in the heart of Avengers Tower; no one would dare attempt to harm you." 

Loki barked out a laugh. "And they dare now?" he wondered, freeing one hand from its death grip on his mug to wave around the – mostly, but he'd fix that soon enough – secured flat. "They know not where I reside." 

"I know." 

Loki stared at her for a long moment, waiting for her smile to dull, but it didn't waver. "You, Agent Romanov, are expendable," he informed her coldly, all the strength of a prince threatened in his own territory lending danger to the words. 

Romanov's eyes _gleamed_. "And how do you suppose I found out?" she wondered before pulling out a tiny little piece of metal and wires. "You always vanish once we're in sight, but a little bug, a tracker that can fly ahead and follow you home–"

She managed to duck the mug, though not all of the scalding tea within it. She also managed to duck the two kitchen knives Loki threw after her before she crawled into the opened grating that had hidden the intake for the building's central air system. "Think about my offer," she suggested, voice echoing in the metal tunnels that would have only barely been large enough for her. "In two days, we release your address to SHIELD." 

Loki stared after her, blood boiling with fury and magic. 

So the mortals thought threatening a god was _wise_ did they? Oh, Loki would make them _regret_ that. 

-0-

The plane losing control and nearly crashing into Avengers Tower before Thor and Tony caught it was the first sign that Natasha _may_ have miscalculated. The localised earthquake was the second. 

"Right. Who ticked off which god?" Bruce complained as they all took a break from rescue efforts, covered in dust and specks of blood from the glass shards that fell every time an aftershock hit. 

Clint looked at her – he'd _told_ her they would have been better off waiting until SHIELD had Loki before laying out an offer of certain freedom – and informed the rest of them, "Nat went to Loki's apartment." 

"You found him?" Thor said, blue eyes wide as a puppy's, and three times as pitifully hopeful. "Tony's computer bug worked?" 

"It's not– It wasn't–" Tony sighed and very obviously switched gears from trying to explain the different between tracking bugs and computer viruses to Thor for the billionth time, to being proud of his work. "I mean, of _course_ it worked. Have a little faith, kids. Genius." 

"We agreed to hand the address over to SHIELD as soon as we had it," Steve reminded them, rubbing uncomfortably at his ear. It was a new tick he'd picked up at one point over the past couple months, and Natasha still couldn't figure out what it meant. There wasn't any one thing that set the tick off, though he seemed to do it a lot while he was drawing in his sketchbook. 

"Yeah right, Cap," Tony scoffed. "SHIELD would have an easier time holding water in cupped hands than they would Loki. Let's all be honest, here. The only people who could _possibly_ hope to contain Rudolph are right here." 

Thor frowned. "Loki will not be contained. He requires the freedoms of Asgard. I shall return with him to the Realm Eternal and keep gaze upon him there." 

"Uh, no," Tony cut in. 

"Fuck Asgard and your golden towers," Clint snapped, shoving away from the pillar he'd been leaning against with enough force that Natasha half expected it would join its brothers and sisters at their feet. "Loki fucked with _our_ world and he's going to pay for it the good old-fashioned human way." 

"This is going to be good," Tony muttered. 

"What way is that?" Steve asked, even as Thor growled, "Your Realm was not the only one to see damage done at my brother's hand." 

"You _had_ your chance," Clint informed the god, then turned to Steve to state, "Indentured servitude." 

"Absolutely _not_!" Steve shouted. 

"How about sex slave?" Tony suggested. 

Steve looked horrified. 

"Hey, not all of us can get our jolly off by eye-fucking someone so intensely we can draw their smirk from _memory_."

_'So that's what he's been drawing,'_ Natasha thought; she'd almost called out sick for a couple Loki-sightings, since those and attacks on the city were the only times the captain didn't keep his sketchbook on his person, and she was actually quite curious about what he was always working on in there. Tony had probably had JARVIS find out; Natasha kicked herself for not thinking to ask the AI. 

"You have been staring at my brother with sexual intentions?" Thor demanded, chest puffing out. 

"Oh, can it, Pikachu," Tony said, waving a dismissive hand. "Everyone and their mother thinks your brother could do with a good fucking to calm down." 

"I don't– I wouldn't–" Steve stuttered. 

"Don't be so bashful, Cap. Or did that serum break your sex drive?" 

"Loki is _my_ lover!" Thor shouted. 

Everyone just sort of paused to stare at the Thunderer. 

"I am _no one's_ lover, you vile _oaf_ ," a quiet voice snarled right before the rest of the building crumbled on top of them. 

Thankfully – or purposefully, considering who'd dropped the building – it fell in the right way that they weren't crushed, but two pillars had come down hard enough on Thor to knock him out for a while. Natasha wondered what it meant, that Loki didn't want _any_ of them dead. 

"Next time," Steve said, voice tight with anger, "we discover where a super villain is staying, we let SHIELD know _first_."

"I would like to point out that we're not dead," Clint offered. "Does that mean he likes at least _one_ of us?" 

There was a moment's silence, then Steve said, "Perhaps, since I was the only one _not_ debating turning him into some sort of _slave_ –"

"No, you just want him behind bars so he can model for you!" 

Natasha closed her eyes and rubbed at them, resigning herself to a long few hours until the emergency workers cleared away enough of the rubble to get them out. 

-0-

Making sure Phil Coulson was tied up with business elsewhere – not _literally_ tied up, though; the last thing Loki needed was another quasi-Avenger after him for their own carnal pleasures – the Trickster made his way into SHIELD's more secure Manhattan office, fairly certain he'd have a better chance of finding what he needed there. 

He was right to have taken a disguise rather than come in invisible, since they had body temperature detectors set up at hallway junctions; too many people could make themselves invisible, and not all of them were allies of SHIELD. Shape-shifters could still get in, of course, but they would need to plan well in advance to get past all the security measures. (Or just be a god with nearly unlimited potential; SHIELD being unaware of the full scope of his abilities helped.) 

Fury found him before Loki could track down a computer, and he turned to face the man, getting off a sharp salute – he knew enough about Coulson's mannerisms from Barton to play him reasonably well, which was why he'd chosen this form, as opposed to a random minion – before calmly stating, "Director. My earwig seems to be on the fritz." 

Fury gave a sharp nod and motioned that they should continue down the hallway – Loki assumed they were heading towards wherever SHIELD's replacement tech was kept, which he was more than happy with obtaining some of. They were silent as a uniformed member passed them in the opposite direction, then Fury said, "Tell me you know why the fuck those idiots are buried under Stark's state-of-the-art eyesore." 

Loki resisted the urge to laugh. "They pissed off Loki," he managed in a bored tone. 

"I wish they would just _catch_ that fucker already so we can send him back to Asgard and let _them_ deal with him," Fury muttered. 

Loki raised an eyebrow at the director. "Given they're all sporting amorous intentions towards him, I doubt they'll so willingly hand him over." 

Fury _stopped_ , a complicated expression twisting his face. "They _what_?" he said, voice practically _dripping_ with his namesake. 

Loki stopped as well, looking back at the man and tamping down on the glee bubbling in his stomach at the chaos he was about to unleash on the team of idiots who thought he was so easily used for their preferences. "They all want to fuck him," he said bluntly. Then, after a pregnant beat, added, "Or be fucked by him. I'm not entirely clear on the specifics." 

"I'll have all of them on sewer-cleaning duty for the next _year_ ," Fury snarled before spinning and stalking back the way he came. 

Loki allowed himself a small, victorious smirk, then turned to continue the way Fury had been unknowingly leading him. He found their equipment storage without too much difficulty, and picked out a radio and a handgun and holster. (He had only the vaguest of ideas how the mortal weapons worked, and he might need to infiltrate their headquarters again, possibly while it was under attack, which meant he'd need to have a gun that worked exactly like the mortals would expect.) 

From the equipment lockers, it wasn't hard to find a computer to hack. As he'd suspected, SHIELD kept a file on Dr Strange, which included his address. Loki wasn't surprised to discover Washington Square Park was only two blocks away from the residence Strange occupied, given how strong his presence had been there, though he _was_ surprised to discover that the park was to the northeast of the address; he often travelled past that street on his way to the park and hadn't sensed anything out of the ordinary down it. 

"My clever little sorcerer," Loki murmured, staring at the picture of the man on the screen. Given his recent dealing with the Avengers, the goatee should have irritated him, but he thought it suited the man. 

Loki paused and considered that realisation. Strange had caught his attention with his astral form – that was the only way a mortal would survive travel through Yggdrasil – and kept it with his ability to keep hidden, despite Loki's best attempts to find him – had Strange not given his name on the bank of the Hudson, Loki would still be lost – was it truly any surprise that he would find the man attractive? 

Well, with luck, the Avengers weren't the only heroes of New York who thought Loki worth sleeping with and Strange would grant him asylum. It was true enough that he could easily manage SHIELD, should they come to collect him from his current residence, but he had no interest in ruining the day for his neighbours. Nor did he wish to be constantly changing residences, just in case Stark created some new device to track him down. To claim sanctuary with an occasional – and dangerous in his own right, according to SHIELD's file – ally of SHIELD and the Avengers would be his best option if he was to remain in Midgard. 

And he _did_ want to remain. Mortals were far more pleasurable to play pranks on than others of the Nine Realms, were even willing to laugh, if caught in the proper mood. Loki _enjoyed_ those laughs, perhaps more than he enjoyed the screams of terror that followed one of his larger pranks, the ones that always brought the Avengers running. Longevity did not, alas, leave most beings with the sense of humour required for Loki's manner of passing the long years of peace. 

(Anyway, given that Asgard would know, through Heimdall's gaze, that he was no longer in his prison, the rest of the Realms were no more safe than Midgard, in regards to prosecution for old crimes. Any where he went, he would be dodging Æsir looking for him. At least here, in Midgard, he could keep his enemies at bay long enough to catch a few hours of sleep.) 

With the address in his mind, stolen equipment in place on his person, and chaos brewing like a particularly nasty storm over Fury's head, Loki left SHIELD's headquarters with a bounce in his step. Once he was out of sight of the building's traffic, he let his disguise melt away and teleported to a polite distance from the Sanctum Sanctorum. 

Only when he was within the property limits did the façade of familiar New York building-fronts fade away, revealing the three-storey building with its unusual top floor window. Peering down, through that window, Loki saw Strange, the sorcerer's expression unreadable at this range. 

Loki held out his arms in a show of peace, recalled the gun he still wore, and banished it to his flat. Strange gave a slight incline of his head, then vanished from the window. 

Loki took that as a sign that he was welcome to approach the front door and did so, setting a rapid flurry of knocks against the strong wood of the door, then stepping back slightly. (He was capable of being polite, he just didn't usually care to.) 

The man who answered the door was bald and of, Loki thought, Asian descent. His stare was distrustful, just shy of hostile, but his tone was polite when he asked, "What may I do for you?" 

Loki inclined his head. "I come seeking an audience with Dr Stephen Strange." 

"My master is not accepting guests–"

"It's fine, Wong," Strange said, stepping up behind his apparent servant. He raised an eyebrow at Loki. "I would not have expected your visit, given your most recent misdeeds." 

Loki tensed at the note of reprimand in Strange's voice. "They threatened me," he said, only vaguely aware that he was attempting to justify his actions, something he rarely did. "The Black Widow snuck into my flat and told me I could either follow her pleasures or she would hand my location over to SHIELD." 

"You expected otherwise?" Strange wondered, one eyebrow raised. His servant was looking between them with a frown, as though not completely certain what they were talking about. 

"I wasn't aware that the act of bringing an army easily defeated by your world's defenders lost me the right to have a safe haven," Loki snarled, temper rising. "If I _wanted_ to be hunted night and day by incompetents, I would be in Asgard; at least _those_ incompetents prove a minor challenge." 

"You are Loki," the servant realised, wariness entering his stance. "For what reason have you come to my master? An ally in your vendetta against the Avengers?" 

Loki opened his mouth to inform the bald man where he could shove his faith in Loki's cruelty, but Strange said, "He comes seeking sanctuary. Let him in, Wong." 

Loki's mouth snapped shut, his anger draining so fast it almost made him dizzy. 

"Are you certain, Master?" the servant asked, not yet moving out of the doorway to let Loki in. 

"I am," Strange agreed calmly enough. 

Wong finally moved, though he didn't look happy about it, and Loki took his chance to step past the last of the protective warding around the building. The magic crept over his skin like tiny insects, for a moment, before washing away and leaving behind a sense of security that Loki had lost the moment he'd woken to find Romanov in his home. "Thank you," he whispered, honesty weighing his words down. 

Strange offered him a smile, small and as honest as Loki's words of thanks. "Stephen Strange. And this is Wong, my manservant and loyal friend." 

Loki swallowed against a strange mix of gratitude and some emotion he had no name for, "Loki," he replied, holding out his hand in the mortal custom. 

Strange grasped it between his own, smile widening. "Welcome home, Loki." 

"Oh," Loki said, unusually lost for words. 

Next to them, Wong relaxed. "Let me make tea," he suggested before walking deeper into the house. 

"Come," Strange suggested, using his hand in Loki's to pull the god along after him, "I'll give you the tour." 

Loki nodded and let the mortal lead him without complaint. 

-0-

Even bruised, battered, and suffering from the tail end of Fury's rant, the Avengers jumped immediately to their feet when a man appeared in the conference room, the alarms blaring angrily a moment later. 

Their visitor, draped in a red cloak and bearing a resemblance to Tony, seemed unbothered by their reaction to his presence, simply stepping up to an unoccupied chair and settling into it. 

Fury frowned. "Dr Strange, as you can see, I'm in the middle of a meeting–"

"Loki sent me on his behalf," Stephen informed the director calmly, as though he hadn't just admitted to having amiable contact with a man on SHIELD's list of Top Ten Most Dangerous Villains. (He'd been number one for almost a year, after the Chitauri, until one of Magneto's attempts to rid the world of non-mutants kicked him down to number two. Given the destruction of Avengers Tower and the surrounding buildings, he might just return to the top spot, for all that no one had actually died.) "It seems, given that your discussion is about him, he should have a voice. But he believes he would not leave unmolested, so I have agreed to speak in his stead." 

"How do we know you're not him in disguise?" Steve asked, frowning. They'd all heard of the Sorcerer Supreme, of course, but this was the first time any of them – other than Fury and Natasha – had met him. 

Strange shrugged. "You don't." He offered the captain a smile that was _nothing_ like the smirks Steve had sketched a thousand times. 

Steve was not soothed. 

"Where is my brother?" Thor demanded. "If you have caused him harm–"

"I'm not the one attempting to blackmail him," Stephen pointed out drily. He'd got the basics out of Loki and was just generally unamused with the entire group. Given, some things may have been a bit twisted by Loki's own experiences, and his inability to be completely honest for more than a handful of words at a time, but he knew enough about the characters of the humans – at least – at the table to parse out most of the facts. 

"Shut up, all of you," Fury snapped, glaring around the table before turning his eye on Stephen. "Where is Loki, Strange?" 

Stephen took a moment to consider the director, weighing the pros and cons of refusing to answer in front of the Avengers, then decided his wards would hold up to them if they thought to remove Loki from his home. "My Sanctum Sanctorum. Wong is helping him move in." 

"You're harbouring a wanted criminal–"

"I cannot, in good conscience, refuse sanctuary to someone who has come asking it," Stephen interrupted, frowning. "Even criminals need a place to sleep, Director." 

"He can sleep in a cell," Clint muttered. 

"SHIELD lacks the means to contain him," Stephen reminded them. "Just as you lack the means to contain _me_ , Fury, so I wouldn't," he added, recognising the glint in the man's eye. 

"We don't need the two most powerful magic-users currently on Earth standing against us," a voice said from the doorway, and everyone turned to see Coulson walking over to the table, a tablet in his hand. "I apologise for my tardiness, Director, but there were other matters demanding my attention." 

Fury's shoulders relaxed slightly as Coulson took the empty spot directly to his right. 

Coulson glanced up at Stephen, then, eyes sharp, but glinting with amusement. "Do you know what Loki took while he was here, Strange?" 

Fury tensed back up. " _What_?"

"I was not aware he came to SHIELD headquarters," Stephen answered honestly. "I know he had a gun when he reached my home, though he banished it when I asked him to. I could not say if it was a SHIELD issue or something he bought on the street." 

Coulson nodded. "He came in disguised as me, spoke to you, then took a couple of things from the armoury and used a computer before leaving." 

Fury muttered a few unflattering curses under his breath. 

"I must assume he was looking for my address," Stephen commented. "He has been prowling around the area the past few months, but this was the first time he approached my wards directly." 

"Why would Loki seek you out, though?" Bruce wondered, absently fussing with his cuffs. "I mean, he can't have known you would be at all open to listening to him, and he didn't know we'd tracked him down until this morning. Or last night." He glanced at Natasha. "I'm not completely clear on the timeframe, but the plane was just after ten this morning." 

Stephen shrugged. "Magic calls to magic; he's not the first magic-user I've seen snooping around my home, though he has been the most persistent. And we have met, briefly, before; I asked him to stop upsetting the demon that resides in the Hudson." 

"I'm surprised you didn't come to blows," Tony muttered. 

"Should we have? I was polite and explained the problem; he stopped, and hasn't done it again since." 

"That sounds not at all like my brother," Thor said, frowning. "It is only when faced with a greater force that he would cease his amusement at the direction of another." 

Stephen sighed. 

"We've never, actually, _asked_ him to stop," Steve pointed out. 

"Maybe you missed the multiple times we asked him to stop with the Chitauri?" Tony returned, but he sounded more thoughtful than sarcastic, as one would have expected. 

"There are a lot of differences between the Chitauri and his recent actions," Natasha said, brow furrowed slightly. Catching Stephen's faint smile, she asked, "How many people died today?" 

The Avengers traded frowns. Coulson tapped on his tablet for a moment, then reported, "Two hundred fifty-nine people injured. Four are in critical condition, but they're expected to make it." He glanced up. "No dead." 

"Okay, _no_ ," Tony said, shaking his head. "Building collapses, people die. That is a _fact_. I mean, think about the Twin Towers. Even if everyone had been allowed to evacuate, there still would have been dead when the buildings went down. Not counting the people on the actual planes, or those the planes killed on impact." 

Everyone looked to Stephen, but he looked at Thor. "How often have Loki's pranks caused death? Or even true, physical injury?" 

Thor considered that for a moment, brow furrowed, then shook his head. "I only recall two injuries of another, and one of his own. Though, in the battlefield–"

"Not asking about battle, Space Viking," Tony pointed out, an odd expression twisting his face as he looked back at Stephen. "So, what? You saying he's turned over a new leaf? Or gone back to the old one." 

Stephen shrugged. "I have not asked, only made note of the pattern. Though, too, I have seen him performing small magic tricks for children in the parks. I believe he acts first for amusement, and the terror he causes is simply incidental." His lips twitched. "However, given your reasons for hunting him, he may, also, enjoy watching you run to stop him." 

" _That_ sounds like Loki," Clint muttered. 

"So long as he does not purposefully cause a death, he has sanctuary in my home," Stephen added, turning to Fury. "I would request that you respect that, Director, and don't send your people against me. I have no wish to kill soldiers following orders, but I will protect my home and those who reside within the walls as stridently as I protect this planet from those forces beyond it." 

"Noted," Fury allowed, scowling. 

Stephen inclined his head, then looked towards Tony. "I believe, Mr Stark, that you are no longer in need of placing tracking devices on my guest, as you now know where he resides. Please resist the urge." 

"Or what?" Tony challenged, eyes narrowed. 

"I will return them." 

Stephen didn't need to explain that he would make such returns extremely unpleasant for the recipient. 

"Would it be permissible to visit?" Thor requested. 

Stephen stood from his chair, cloak flowing around him as though it possessed a mind of its own. "No." 

"But–!"

Stephen turned his back on the table, blandly commenting, "If Loki invites you in, I will not stop you, for that is his choice, but he specifically requested than none of you be allowed entrance, and I am of a mind to allow that request." Then he teleported back to the Sanctum Sanctorum, waving the Cloak of Levitation to the rack it usually hung on when he wasn't wearing it, and going in search of Loki or Wong. 

Both were in the kitchen, arguing over the comics in the newspaper, and Stephen took a moment to shake his head at them, half amused, half disbelieving that Loki had so easily given Wong reason to trust him. (To be fair, the fact that Stephen trusted the god probably had a lot to do with it.) 

Loki glanced up first, appearing almost _expectant_ , and not the least bit surprised to see Stephen standing in the doorway. "Were they impossible?" he asked, tone mocking and not the least bit kind towards the Avengers. 

"There's something to be said for having the two strongest, Earth-based magic-users residing in one building," Stephen commented as Wong got up to pour him some tea. 

Loki let out a laugh that was so edged in bitterness that Stephen ached for the trials he'd suffered through to reach this moment. 

"Thank you," he murmured as Wong handed over his tea, then he looked at Loki again and said, "I told them you are staying here so long as my conditions are met, and they will stay away." 

"For now," Loki muttered, as distrustful of others as he seemed to think they needed to be of him. 

"If they are wise, they won't test my defences. If they are unwise..." Stephen just shrugged. 

"It will be a long journey home," Wong said wisely, and winked when Loki turned to stare at him. 

Stephen shook his head and tugged at the newspaper. "May I have whichever page you two are done with?" 

" _Neither_ ," Loki bit out, but there was a glint of humour in his eyes as he held out one of the pages for Stephen to take, and the Sorcerer Supreme got the sense that they would get along just fine.

..

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Loki's Strange Prison](https://archiveofourown.org/works/948722) by [kaluu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaluu/pseuds/kaluu)




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